


Can I just title this later? It's a Coffee Shop AU.

by ChapstickJunkie



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Cussing, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I have no idea what i am doing or where this is going so dont get too invested, Leslie is in love with his car, M/M, Making Out, Misunderstandings, as always, because I am soft, even slower burn for joeslie, mild violence, slow burn for blakefield, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23623792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChapstickJunkie/pseuds/ChapstickJunkie
Summary: For years now, Will has been publishing his poems under the name L.C. Schofield. L.C. Schofield is now recognized as one of London's rising poets. But Will, he's still just a coffee shop barista.Enter Tom Blake, the most wonderful person Will ever set eyes on. There's just one problem though, Tom is enamored with the poetry of L.C. Schofield, Will's alias. Afraid he'll scare Tom away Will just...never tells him he and L.C. Schofield are one and the same.Will is convinced he can keep the two separate, I mean, what could go wrong?AKA the love triangle between Tom and Will and Will
Relationships: Joseph Blake/Lieutenant Leslie, Tom Blake/William Schofield
Comments: 36
Kudos: 136





	1. I bet he's got brown eyes...

**Author's Note:**

> Halfway through this I realized I can't write poetry. RIP
> 
> Basically Tom has a crush on a famous poet, and doesn't realize that it's actually Will. 
> 
> Someone in the 2nd Devons mentioned this and I just ran with it. I have no clue where it's going. I don't know what's going on. We're all on this bus together.

“I bet he’s got brown eyes,” Tom hummed happily, eyes gazing dreamily off into the distance.  
  
“Brown eyes, huh?” Will repeated back thoughtlessly, drying another coffee mug and placing it on a high shelf. “Can I ask why?’  
  
“Brown eyes are warm. Like coffee. Or hot chocolate.” Tom sighed, turning his attention back to the chunky mug cradled in his hands.  
  
“Blue eyes can be beautiful, too.” Schofield commented as Tom took a sip of his hot chocolate.  
  
Tom made a noise of disagreement, setting the mug back down. “You’re just saying that cause you’ve got blue eyes and you think you’re a handsome bastard.”  
  
Will shrugged, “Blue eyes remind me of the ocean.” He glanced at Tom, “and you’ve got hot chocolate on your nose.”  
  
Tom huffed, bringing up his sweater sleeve to wipe at his face before Will batted his arm away, handing him a proper napkin. “I can’t understand why you’re so _enamored _with this guy anyways.”  
  
Tom gasped mockingly, “I am not _enamored_ with L.C. Schofield I simply admire his work.”  
  
“And his eyes, apparently.”  
  
“Hey now!” Tom reached over the counter to swat at Will, who only chuckled and turned away. “L.C. Schofield one of the greatest emerging poets of our generation. Not to mention a queer icon.”  
  
Will rolled his eyes at Tom, reaching for his empty mug, ‘Please don’t start with the-”  
  
“He just articulates it so well, the struggles of growing up knowing you’re different from everyone else. He makes it beautiful.” Tom signed again, almost dramatically.  
  
Will playfully smacked Tom with his order pad, “Wake up Juliet.”  
  
Tom groaned in response.  
  
“Now either pay me or go fangirl somewhere else.”__

____ _ _

____Blog Post 375, May 6, 2019_ _ _ _

________Warmth like I never knew. ___  
_Juliet. _  
_Tell me you feel it too. _  
_-L.C. Schofield ____ _ _ __


	2. Don't Get Lost on the Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> something obviously worked out cause there's a second chapter so lets see how long this one lasts

Will sighed, dropping his head as he closed his laptop. He hadn’t written enough this week, he knew it. Lauri had been sick three days this week, forcing him to cover her shifts, he couldn’t help having to work long hours. Deep down, Will knew that wasn’t the issue. He had written some of his best work in the scattered seconds between serving customers. Back when he had started writing poems, as an anxious, closeted teenager, his blog had been his safe space, the internet a void he could yell into, never having to worry about where his words would land. But now, almost six years later, his poetry was gaining traction. Even his shorter pieces were getting thousands of views. Three bookstores and two local news stations had reached out, asking him to speak. Will had turned them down everytime. He didn’t need people connecting one of London’s favorite underground poets to a shy, lanky barista. He didn’t need Tom connecting them. Will let out a heavy breath at the thought.  
  
Tom had been coming in four days a week for almost seven months now, initially discovering the cafe on accident. 

It had been a bitter November night, thirty minutes to closing. Will wiped down the counters for the third time, tempted to close early just so he could cuddle up at home with his laptop and work. Nothing interesting had happened the entire day, except for Lauri spilling an entire pot of French Vanilla coffee, and that wasn’t exactly prose-worthy material. Will sighed, maybe he could work on one of his old drafts? God knows he didn’t want to. The soft chime of the bell above the door interrupted his thoughts. Will glanced up to see a man wrapped in a dark coat, and had half the thought to just say they were closed, until the man looked up at him. To render a poet speechless is an ironic thing, but as Will looked upon Tom’s face for the first time, he knew he would never have words enough to describe him.  
  
His soft face was flushed pink from the cold, and his curling hair was dusted with icy rain. His bottom lip was gnawed red with worry, and a small furrow had appeared between his brows. But it was his eyes that almost made Will lose grip of the cup in his hand. Brilliant blue. Will could see the entire ocean inside of them. Glimmering tide pools and unspeakable depths. Storms crashing against shores and the sun on smooth water. Eons of weather, captured within his irises.  
“I’m sorry.” The boy shook his head, flinging raindrops onto the rug. “Are you still open?”  
Will choked on his tongue, I’m a poet goddamn it, speak! “Yes! Yes! Still open! All night, as long as you need!” Real smooth, good job.  
“Oh, well, you’re very generous!” the boy laughed. Will thought he might just pass out. Is it normal to get light headed from someone’s smile?  
  
“But I don’t plan on staying, you see, I’m a bit lost.” The boy fished a slightly damp map out of his coat pocket. “Which is ironic since I’m in London to study cartography. Don’t know how I plan to do that if I can’t even find the school!” he laughed uncertainly, trailing off when Will didn't laugh along.  
  
Will shook himself out of his dazed state.  
  
The boy had pulled his bottom lip back into his teeth and was nervous approaching the counter.  
  
“No, no, that’s funny!” Will eagerly compensated for his silence, digging around next to the register for a red marker. “Here let me show you where you are.”  
  
Spreading the map out across the counter, Will carefully circled the cafe, drawing a tidy line down three blocks to the small school. “It’s only a fifteen minute walk from here, and if you slip past this bakery you can make it in seven, though I wouldn’t suggest it in the dark.”  
  
“Oh.” Will hears the boy swallow nervously.  
  
Ah shit. “No, no, I’m sorry.” Will cursed himself. “There’s really nothing to worry about in this part of town. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s fine, really.” Will rambles nervously, glancing up at the clock. “Actually, let me walk you there. If you’d like.”  
  
The boy instantly brightened. “You sure? I’d hate to trouble you.”  
  
“It’s really alright, we’re about to close anyway.” Will lied, hoping Lauri wouldn’t kick his ass too hard in the morning.  
  
The boy gathered his map with delight, “Thank you so much Mister…” he paused, obviously craning his neck in an attempt to read Will’s name tag.  
  
“Will.”  
  
“Mister Will?”  
  
“No,” Will laughed, “Just Will, if that’s alright with you.”  
  
The boy laughed, his smile sending butterflied back into Will’s stomach, “I’m Tom.”

  


Collecting his things and locking up the store, Will stepped out into the cold with Tom at his side. They walked in silence, complections occasionally lit up by passing streetlights.  
  
Will stopped, “We cross here.”  
  
The boy nodded and shuffled up to his side. His pink cheeks were smushed down into his thick wool scarf.  
  
Will blew out a cold breath, watching the air cloud up in front of him. “So.”  
  
Tom glanced up at him, his respondent hum muffled by his scarf.  
  
“You’re new in town?” Will knew it was a weak opener. But they had been walking in silence for the last eleven minutes and he just couldn’t take it anymore. Not with the bubbly way Tom walked, with the slight skip in his step of a person who was experiencing something new, and didn’t want to seem too excited.  
  
“Oh yes.” He smiled, no, beamed. “I’m from the country. Here for the semester.”  
  
“Cartography, hm?”  
  
“Yes, I always had a keen eye for maps. And out on my Mum’s orchard I had acres and acres to explore. My brother and I must have marched over every meter of the place.” He chucked, as though recalling a fond memory.  
  
“He must have hated to see you go.”  
  
“Oh no,” Tom shook his head happily, “He’s a bit older than me, he lives in the city, actually, just around here. He’s the one that found me this internship.”  
  
“This is it.” Will stopped in front of a small building. Inside he could spot a few people, still hunched over computers. He glanced back to Tom, who was now bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet. “Don’t be nervous, you’re going to be alright.”  
  
The boy smiled, tossing his head back and forth, “All I can do is everything,” he quipped, “right?”  
  
Will froze, “p-pardon?”  
  
Tom shrugged, glancing back at the building, “oh nothing, just…a line from a guy I like.” He took a breath, seeming to steady himself. “Thank you for walking me here, Will. I appreciate it. I really do.”  
  
“Maybe I’ll see you around?” He offered.  
  
“Only if I don’t get lost on the way.” Tom laughed, and it took everything in Will to not scoop Tom’s face into his hands and kiss away his perfect smile. 

  
  


Blog Post 302, August 14, 2018

_I think of the sashed woman.  
The foreigner child.  
The burning monk.  
All I can do is everything.  
-L.C. Schofield_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this entire chapter and then got to the end and realized tom never introduced himself and I had been calling him The Boy the entire time. had lots of fun rewriting that :I


	3. Ellis Leslie, you madman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long, but I'm back! I'm going to try and set up some sort of release schedule, now that I have the rest of the chapters plotted out.

The morning light washed softly through the large glass windows of the cafe. The April sun had finally begun to cast warmth into the world and Will felt like a cat everytime he stepped outside, turning his body to fit the shapes of the sunbeams. Across the street, the baby buds of the cherry trees were beginning to unfurl. Within a week, he knew, they would blossom, coloring the tiny park pink, and dusting the ground like snow. The soft clinking of china pulled his attention across the counter.  
  
Tom.  
  
Will wished it were possible to describe him. The softness of all his edges. The golden halo of the sun in his hair. The way his sweater sleeves kept slipping over his palms. The sleepiness in his smile as he pushed open the cafe door. The soft way he asked for a coffee, voice slightly rough, as though they were the first words he’s spoken that day. Will liked to think they were.  
  
“Will?”  
  
He hummed in response, not wanting to move from his daze.  
  
“Did you know that cows have four stomachs?”  
  
“I’m sorry, what?” Will laughed.  
  
“They do.” Tom shrugged, returning to his coffee without care.  
  
Will only sighed in retaliation. “Okay Tom, tell me about the cows.”  
  
“It’s a special part of their digestive system. It’s why they can eat grass and we can’t.”  
  
“Do you want to eat grass, Tom?”  
  
“No,” Tom laughs, “but I have tried. My brother dared me to eat all sorts of things back when we both lived on the farm.” He smiles down at his coffee with a warm sadness.  
  
The cafe grew quiet between them, Tom distracted by memories, Will distracted by Tom.  
  
“Did you want to stay?” Will inquired softly, “On the farm, I mean.”  
  
“Oh no,” Tom stirred his coffee passively, “I always dreamt of leaving. I wanted to be an explorer. To go to new places, meet new people. Everyone in my town was just so...the same. But they all fit together, happily. I almost wish I had that sameness inside of me, just so I could fit.”  
  
Customers are beginning to come in, chatter intruding on their quiet peace. Will tries his best to lend an ear to Tom, but he’s beginning to get the feeling that Tom isn't talking to him anymore.  
  
The door chimes a third time as Tom quietly finishes his thought, “I guess what I mean is, a small town isn’t the best place to be different.”  
  
“HOLY SHIT WILLIAM!”  
  
Will scrambled to right the teapot he nearly overturned. “Jesus Christ, give a man a warning.”  
  
“I come bearing great news!” Ellis Leslie threw his arms wide as he entered the cafe, “I am broke!”  
  
Will rubbed at his temple as Leslie swaggered over to the counter.  
  
“Do you know this man?” Tom swept his coffee cup out of danger as Leslie draped himself across the counter.  
  
“Yes,” Will sighed, “He used to-”  
  
“ELLIS ANDREW FUCKING LESLIE!” The break room door slammed open as Lauri stormed out.  
  
“Could we please stop yelling?” Will shrank down as Leslie smiled smugly.  
  
“I thought I told you to stay out of my goddamn store!” Lauri slammed her hand down next to Leslie's face, smushed against the cool counter.  
  
“Aww no, Lauri,” Leslie whined, pushing himself up to prop his chin in his palms. “You didn’t miss me?”  
  
“Your bullshit? Not for a minute.” Lauri laughed, crossing her arms. “How was your world tour? You find yourself out there?”  
  
Leslie swooned dramatically, collapsing back onto the counter, “All I discovered was the darkness that resides in the hearts of men.”  
  
Lauri raised an eyebrow, “Steven dumped you, didn’t he?”  
  
Leslie glared up at her, “Maybe.”  
  
“I told you that asshole wasn’t worth your time Ellis!”  
  
“I know, I know.” Leslie groaned, “But he had a pretty face, and he spoke French, Lauri, have you ever been with someone who speaks French? It’s life changing.”  
  
“I speak French, you moron.”  
  
Leslie only groaned again.  
  
Tom glanced from Leslie to Lauri to Will. “I’m sorry, but what is-”  
  
“Lauri I need my job back!” Leslie cried, throwing his arms over the counter in prayer, “I am destitute. A man without a livelihood. Lauri.” Leslies voice dropped to a dramatic whisper. “I have a family now.”  
  
Lauri rolled her eyes, turning away.  
  
“I’m serious! Look at her!” Leslie swept his arm out to gesture to an exhausted brown Ford Fairmont, nearly taking off Tom’s head in the process. “Gracie is my pride and joy. I need to support her.”  
  
“That car is a piece of shit Leslie.” Lauri called over her shoulder, “You can start again Wednesday.”  
  
Leslie sighed in relief, sagging into the chair next to Tom, who stared back with wide eyes.  
  
“Relax kid, I don’t bite.”  
  
Tom swallowed nervously, glancing up at Will for guidance.  
  
Will lazily gestured between the men, “Tom, this is Ellis, you can call him Leslie, Leslie, this is Tom-”  
  
Leslie shot up, “Your lover!”  
  
“...my friend.” Will glanced at Tom, who blushed madly.  
  
“Oh.” Leslie collapsed into his folded arms in disappointment. “You’re no fun.”  
  
The bell jangled noisily above the door and Leslie peeked up with Will to see who came in. Tom brightened as he spotted the stranger's curly brown hair, so like his own.  
  
“Joe!” Tom leapt up.  
  
“Tom!” The older man threw an arm around the boy’s shoulders, tussling his hair playfully.  
  
“Oh god, hide me.” Leslie whispered, trying to climb over the counter.  
  
Will pushed him back down into his chair, “what, why?”  
  
“Oh, that’s only Joseph Blake!” Leslie hissed, “The golden boy of the UCL English Department.”  
  
“I thought you dropped out of college?” Will whispered back, watching the Blake brothers playfully argue.  
  
“I did, I just-”  
  
“Oh my god, Leslie?” Joe’s excited voice cut through their hushed conversation.  
  
“Oh my god, no” Leslie whimpered.  
  
“Ellis Leslie, you mad man!” Joe strode up to the cringing man, Tom still struggling in a headlock under his arm. “I thought you woulda left London after the scene you caused at Uni!”  
  
“I did.” Leslie responded meeky, “For a bit.”  
  
Joe laughed loudly, thumping Leslie on the back. The poor man was beginning to look queasy.  
  
“You should have seen him,” Joe shook his head, “brought down the wrath of Armageddon on the professor, he did. Cussing him out like no tomorrow.” Joe wagged a finger at Leslie in a mockery of scorn. “Bastard had it coming, though. What with the disrespect he had towards his lady students, or any student, who wasn’t his perfect straight white male.”  
  
“Sounds like quite a man.” Tom nodded.  
  
“The man had no real experience in the literary world.” Leslie cut in to defend himself, “He barely had the credentials to be a professor at all. His misogynistic ego has no place in the artistic world.” Leslie sat up taller, confidence returned in his rampage. “He was a lunatic, deranged. A complete madman!”  
  
“Not so mad as you,” Joe laughed, “Good to see he finally met his match.”  
  
Leslie laughed softly. “Barely, if you haven’t noticed, only one of us is still in University.”  
  
Tom’s eyes widened. “You were expelled?”  
  
Leslie shrugged.  
  
“Oh god no!” Joe laughed, “After this sorry bastard gets done laying into the professor-”  
  
“We don’t need to include this part.” Leslie begs, flush rising in his face.  
  
“He gives this great big goodbye speech talking about how we could catch him on the bestsellers list by June and the professor could kiss his ass for all he cared! The nerve you had,” Joe reaches out to tussle Leslie’s hair, “dropping out right then and there.”  
  
“I think I was drunk.” Leslie mumbled. “Because I don’t remember all of that.”  
  
Will quickly slips a cup of coffee into Joe's hands, occupying the man’s attention.  
  
_Thank you_ , Leslies mouths, sagging back into his seat.  
  
“So, Joe,” Will wished he had something to do with his gangly arms, “What brings you in here?”  
  
Joe threw an arm back around Tom, “Do I need an excuse to see my favorite brother?”  
  
“I’m your only brother.” Tom pushed his empty cup at Will.  
  
Will raised an eyebrow, _another?_  
  
_Nah,_ Tom shook his head, settling back to listen to his brother.  
  
Will smiled, taking it from him. Tom’s face was lit up with affection, enraptured by his brother’s stories about their times back on the cherry orchard. A soft blush rose on his cheeks every time he laughed, his face stretching into that perfect smile that left Will feeling breathless.  
  
Taking a shaky breath, Will scooped up an empty coffee pot, pushing through the swinging doors into the back room.

  


Lauri sat hunched over her laptop, frantically scribbling onto a sheet of paper, “bastard,” she mumbled under her breath, scratching out one of her previous notes.  
  
“Lauri?” Will carefully left the coffee pot in the sink, “You alright?”  
  
Lauri grimaced, setting down her notepad, “The company that owns this building is upping the rent.”  
  
“By how much?” Will asked tentatively.  
  
“By enough.” Lauri ran a hand through her hair. Sighing deeply, she turned back to the laptop, “Either we start getting more customers, or we all start working overtime.”  
  
Will watched her for a second, the anxious scratching of her pen a stark contrast to Tom’s warm laughter radiating from the front. He can’t lose this job. He can’t lose seeing Tom four days a week. He can’t lose his ocean eyes and his blushed cheeks and his disobedient hair. He can’t lose the way Tom fills his chest with something new, something warm and hopeful. He can’t.

  
  


Blog Post 376, May 14 2019

_To be the petals of cherries,  
laying themselves upon your skin  
with the gentle touch of a lover.  
Brushing your face  
and kissing your hair.  
-L.C. Schofield ___

__Um, hi guys. Something a little different today. In addition to my usual post, I also want to briefly advertise this little coffee shop I go to. It’s a great place to write, maybe I’ll even see some of you there :) -L.C.S._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 2nd Devons are the only people who keep me on task with this fic, honestly. Love you guys!


	4. Maybe He's in Love With Me

Chapter 4

“Will, do you know what this means!” Tom clutched his phone to his chest in excitement. “L.C. Schofield has been here! In this store!”  
  
Will nodded patiently as he watched Tom bounce around the room.  
  
“I could have sat next to him, or held the door for him, or said good morning to him, or” Tom gasped excitedly, “what if he wrote about me?”  
  
“Really, now?” Will laughs, swiping a rag over the counter. “I doubt that.”  
  
“He’s said before that he writes about the things around him. And I’m in here all the time. There’s no way he hasn’t seen me.” Tom swooned over to the counter, draping himself across it dramatically, “Maybe he’s in love with me.”  
  
Will chokes. “I don’t know why he would be.”  
  
“Aw no.” Tom whines, ‘Why not.”  
  
“Because,” Will frantically searches his mind for any sort of insult to throw at Tom. Everything he does is endearing. It’s insufferable. “You’re short.”  
  
“Oh boo.” Tom huffs. “I’m not that short. You’re just unbearably tall.”  
  
Will shrugs smugly. “Maybe.”  
  
“You smug bastard.” Tom laughs, ready to lay into him when the bell above the door chimes aggressively.  
  
“LISTEN! ALL OF YOU!”  
  
Will frantically grabs Tom’s shoulder before he can turn around. “Don’t. Move.” He hisses, squeezing Tom’s shoulder before raising his hands in the air.  
  
“Who’s in charge here?” the voice booms. Heavy steps pass behind Tom. Terror runs in a chill up his spine as he tries to subtly glance over his shoulder. He catches a glimpse of dirty brown boots, navy blue coveralls tucked into them, and in the man’s hand, the sharp glint of a handgun.  
  
“I am.” Will’s voice is steady.  
  
“Good.” The man’s voice is gruff with a German accent.  
  
Tom hears the gun cock as the man pushes it in Will’s face. “You know what I want.”  
  
Will nods, popping open the register drawer, pulling out small piles of money and laying them on the counter.  
  
The man spreads the bills out with his free hand. His mouth moves silently as he counts. Anger flashes over his face. “The rest.” He growls, pushing the barrel of the gun against Will’s forehead.  
  
The movement knocks Will’s hair into his eyes. He makes no move to push it away. Instead slowly backing away from the counter and through the swinging doors into the back of the Cafe, the German’s gun nestled against the base of his skill.  
  
Tom’s vision whites out in panic. He wishes Will had pushed his hair back. He wanted to see Will’s eyes. He needed to. They were blue like his, right? He should know. He should have looked more. Should have memorized them.  
  
“Hurry up God DAMN IT.”  
  
The swinging doors slam against the walls as Will is shoved through. Tom gets a glance of Leslie’s pale face before they swing back closed. The man holds Will by the back of his shirt collar, gun still pressed against Will’s temple.  
  
“What else do you want.” Will’s voice is meek. Tom’s never seen him like this, afraid, he doesn’t like it.  
  
The man opens his mouth to speak before something outside distracts him; sirens, whining faintly in the distance. Tom doubts they’re even for the Cafe, no one’s called the police.  
  
The German doesn’t seem to realize. He cusses angrily, throwing Will’s body to the ground. Tom hears a sickening crack as Will’s head collides with the edge of the counter. He doesn’t get up as the thief disappears out the door.  
  
“Will, Will, Will, oh my god.” Tom blabbles uselessly, clamoring around the counter as fear grips at his throat. Will’s long body is collapsed on the floor. There’s a spot of blood on the counter where the side of his head struck it.  
  
“Tom?” Will groans in confusion.  
  
Tom nearly cries in relief, “Will, holy shit.”  
  
“God, is he okay?” Leslie’s frantic voice appears over his shoulder.  
  
“I don’t know.” Tom gingerly brushed his hand against the back of Will’s head, his fingers coming up sticky with blood.  
  
“I’m calling an ambulance. And the police. And Lauri.” Leslie throws up his hands, “Might as well call the fucking Prime Minister while I’m at it.”  
  
“Don’t.” Will winces, trying to sit up. “No ambulance, S’not that bad.”  
  
“Will, you’re hurt.” Tom scolds.  
  
Will tries to glare at him, but his eyes are hazy and unfocused. “S’all okay.” He mumbled, hand slipping from Tom’s shoulder.  
  
“That’s it.” Tom hooks and arm under Will’s shoulder and pulls him up. “We’re going to the hospital. Now.”  
  
“I texted your brother!” Leslie called after them, “He says he’s almost here.”  
  
Tom nods, swiping a cloth off the counter and pressing it to the back of Will’s head. He spots Joe’s car tearing around the corner as soon as they step out of the Cafe.  
  
“Christ man!” Joe exclaimed as Tom tucked Will into the back of his brother's car. “Watch the blood on the seats will you!”  
  
Tom shot daggers at his brother as Will slumped against his side. “Just shut up and drive, the man's dying over here!”  
  
“Am not.” Will muttered deliriously, before leaning over to empty his guts on the floor of Joe’s backseat. 

  
  


\--------

  


“And this guy came in, like a super big guy! And he was like, holding him and threw him and he cracked his head on the counter and I don’t think he’s bleeding anymore but he was. Oh, and he threw up.”  
  
“In my car.”  
  
“In his car, and his eyes are all weird and I googled it and I think he has a concussion.”  
  
The triage nurse sighed in disinterest at the brothers rambling, scribbling a note onto his clipboard. “That’s awesome. Does your friend have a name?”  
  
“Will.” Tom replied, shifting the aforementioned man. He looked like an injured sports player with an arm slung over each of the Blakes.  
  
“Will…?” The nurse raised an eyebrow, stretching the scar that ran through his eye further across his face. “Will what?”  
  
Tom paused.  
  
“You really don’t know your best friend's last name?”  
  
“I, uh,” Tom glanced at Joe for support. The older brother shrugged uselessly.  
  
“Schofield,” Will replied sluggishly, “spelled like, schooooo-field.”  
  
“Alright then Mr. Will Schofield,” the nurse clicked his pen against his board, “let’s go put your head back together.”

  
  


\---------

  
  


“Will, I’m worried.”  
  
“About me? You shouldn’t be.” Will snapped the register drawer closed with his hip, “It’s been three weeks, doctor gave me the okay to come back to work.”  
  
“No,” Tom mumbled, scrolling through his phone, “L.C. Schofield hasn’t posted anything new in almost a month.  
  
Will laughed, “Thanks for the sympathy.”  
  
“I worry.” Tom protested.  
  
“I’m literally in front of you, concussed, and you’re worried about an online author you’ve never met.”  
  
“I dunno man,” Tom shrugged. “We live in troubled times. What if he got like, assassinated or some shit.”  
  
“Assassinated, really? For what?”  
  
“I don’t know.” Tom cocked his head in exasperation, “being gay?”  
  
Will laughed aloud, “I’m gay! Do you see any assassins out to get me? I swear you’re ridiculous-” Will’s statement dies out as he realizes what he’s just admitted. He quickly turns away, finding anything to keep his hands occupied, anything to avoid facing Tom.  
  
“You are?” Tom’s voice is quiet.  
  
Will swallowed thickly, “I’m...bi...bisexual, so I guess not. No, not really.”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
Will hears Tom set his phone down and hesitates to meet the younger man's eyes.  
  
“Last time I checked it was l-g- _B _-t, making you completely valid.” Tom stopped to take a cocky swig of his coffee, “Check yourself before you wreck yourself, mate.”  
  
Will felt a smile break across his face at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.  
  
Tom laughs into his coffee behind him, his seashore sky eyes twinking at Will over the brim of his cup.  
  
Will thinks he might be in love.__

__  
_ _

____

Blog Post 377 June 12, 2019

____

____

_I didn’t feel like a person until you spoke to me,  
Until you drew me up out of fine lines and soaked me with color.  
Ophelia,  
You epitaph.  
You place for loving,  
Looking like the space where the seashore meets the skyline.  
If you’re going to be the death of me  
That's the way I want to go.  
Sunk down deep  
And swallowed up by your love. ___

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaah I've had so little time to write! I want to keep publishing chapters because I know that there are people who are invested in this story (at least I hope there are) but I want to make sure I'm not sacrificing the quality of the stuff I produce. Oh well. Que sera sera.


	5. To The Brink of Insanity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote most of this at two in the morning.

July 2019

Madonna poured out of every window in Will’s small apartment into the dark city streets. There was a lingering warmth in everything from the hot July sun. Maybe it was night still. Maybe it was morning. 

Will wasn’t sure anymore, but to be fair, he was a little fucked up at the moment. Two beers, five shots of the old whiskey he found on top of his fridge, and too many cups of whatever it was Leslie kept handing him. Knowing Leslie, it probably wasn’t great for him. Probably wasn’t completely legal either, but Will wasn’t going to ask.

“Willlll…” Tom stumbled over to him, giggling as he caught himself on Wills arm. The glitter on his face shimmered pink in the dim red light of Wills apartment. “This is the best birthday ever.”

Will laughed like he was stupid. “It’s so good! We should have birthdays more!”

“Yes!” Tom exclaimed, pulling back from Will, “When is your birthday?”

“December.” Will sighed.

“Oh no.” Tom dropped his head against Will’s chest sadly. “That’s too far.” 

Material Girl fades out and the apartment is silent for a moment as the track switches over, it’s something slower, quieter. Will lets himself sway gently, Tom leaning against his chest. 

All their other friends were out at this point, either passed out around Will’s apartment or headed off to their own places, leaving in pairs with hasty goodbyes and blushed faces.

Tom mumbles into Will’s shirt and he glances down. “What was that?”

Tom shrugs, “Just havin’ a good, good time.” His voice comes out a little too breathless. 

Will feels the butterflies that seem to have permanently settled in his chest since he met Tom flutter down to his stomach. He tears his eyes away from the younger man, “You should get home.” 

“I’m too drunk to drive.” Tom slurs.

“I can walk you.”

“I’m too drunk to walk.” There’s something almost sultry in Tom’s voice. “Plus then you’d be at my place and I'd just have to walk you back.” Tom beams his perfect sunshine smile up at Will, like he hadn’t just sent shivers down the man’s spine.

Will stumbles back, bumping his head on the exposed brick. 

“No, no.” Tom mumbled drunkenly. His hands coming up to hold the sides of Wills head, nearly poking his eye out in the process. “Don’t hit your head anymore, okay?” 

Will nodded. “Don’t wanna hit my head anymore.”

Tom laughed, threading his fingers through Wills hair to play with it. “It’s a good head.”

Will almost melted at the touch, closing his eyes to lean into it. “You’re a good head.”

“I am.” Tom replies with a seriousness that made Will snicker. He carded his hands through the longer strands of hair at the top of Will’s head. 

Will allowed his head to be battered back and forth. Just enjoying the feel of Tom so close to him. He was warm. Will was always so cold. Will wanted that warmth next to him all the time. Humming happily, he wrapped his arms around Tom's waist, he wanted to dip his hands underneath the hem of Tom's baggy sweater. To see if his skin was just as warm underneath.

Tom's hands stilled on his face.

Will opened his eyes reluctantly. “Why’d you stop?”

Tom's face rested an inch away from his own. His blue eyes were focused. Investigating Will's face for something, he wasn’t quite sure what. Will held his breath. Ready to let his eyes drop back closed when Tom spoke,

“You’re pretty scho.” His hands gently grazed Wills cheek. 

“You’re pretty handsome too” 

“S’not what I said.” Tom disagreed, “said you’re pretty.”

“Is there a difference?” Will slurred. 

“Yeah.” Tom's face was only a breath away from his now. “You need to know you’re pretty. Because you’re so fucking pretty.” Tom barely whispered the last words, stepping into Will’s space until their bodies were flush against each other. 

“Tom?” Wills' words were more of a whimper than anything else. Tom was so unbearably close, hands still playing with his hair, blue eyes still studying him with that piercing gaze. 

“Fuck it.” Tom mumbled. And then his lips were crashing into Will’s. Hot and wet and pushing against Will, forcing him to lean against the wall for support. Will stifled a surprised squeak, melting back into Toms embrace. He let the kiss slide messily against his mouth, parting his lips to pull Tom in deeper. 

Tom obliged, sliding his tongue over Will's bottom lip in the dirtiest way possible. Taking everything Will was giving him and then demanding more. His hand, still carded in Will’s hair, tightened into a fist and yanked at the roots. 

Will didn’t recognize the sultry moan that slid out of his mouth as his head tipped back against the wall, exposing his threat. Tom smirked, biting Will's bottom lip in farewell as he left Will's mouth to explore this new territory. 

Will could only brace his hands on Tom's hips as Tom sloppily kissed up his neck. Whimpering again as Tom found a particularly sensitive spot under his jaw. The younger man laced a hand back into Will's hair, pulling his head to the side so he could bite at the spot. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin as he left a hickey that would be clearly visible for the next week. Tom pulled away to watch the bruise blossom under Wills pale skin, kissing the spot in apology before moving a few inches down Wills neck to start again.

“Tom, ah, fuck,” Will’s complaints died in his mouth as Tom mouthed along the exposed part of his collarbone, littering every inch of his journey with flowering bruises. “Come back.” 

Tom shook his head impishly, giggling against his throat. 

“You’re a little shit, you know.” 

Tom’s laugh turned into a moan as Will flipped them over, pinning the smaller boy to the wall and reconnecting their mouths. 

Will’s kisses were torturously slow. Pressing deep into Tom before pulling back and leaving him lightheaded. Never quite enough to leave him satisfied. 

“Will, please,” Tom begged, lips hot pink and swollen, “Don’t be a tease.”

“Oh, so now it’s not fun anymore?” Will mocked, giving into Tom’s blushing demands all the same. He gets lost in the high of it, the little power rush he gets when he captures Tom’s wrists in one large hand and pins them to the brick above his head. He doesn’t realize quite what he’s doing until Tom moans loudly, grinding his hips into Will’s. 

“We need to stop.” Will pulls back, trying to ignore how absolutely _wrecked _Tom looks. “You’re way too drunk.”__

____

“No,” Tom whines, trying to pull Will back by the shirt collar. “Need you so bad, Will, love you.”

____

Will feels a pang in his heart at the last words. “If you can tell me this again when you're sober I promise, I will ruin you for days. But not right now.”

____

Tom sighs sadly, but he listens, sliding his hands down to rest them on Will’s chest. “I mean it though,” he whispers. 

____

“You’re drunk, Tom.” Will can feel his heart breaking as Tom plays with the buttons of his shirt.

____

“I love you.” Tom’s gaze stays focused on his hands.

____

Will responds before he can think, “I love you, too.”

____

Tom leans up again to plant his lips against Will’s, but this kiss is different. It’s soft and innocent. Somehow it hurts so much more. Will kisses back like a lover leaving for war, farewells and sorrow mixed into his love. Like it’s the last kiss they’ll ever share. 

____

Will tries to ignore the fact that it very well may be. 

____

____

Will wakes up splayed out on his couch. His apartment looks like a scene from The Hangover and he groans, burying his face back in the couch cushions. He can clean it all up later.

____

“Will?” 

____

Will sits up abruptly at Tom’s rough voice. His hangover slams into his forehead and he groans. 

____

“Shit, mate!” Tom laughs as Will tries to rub the sleep out of his eyes, “Someone really did a number on you!”

____

Will stretches up to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror, and the previous night comes flooding back to him. Tom’s flushed face and rumpled hair and his gorgeous eyes, blown out like supernovas. The evidence of their rendezvous litters Will’s neck in deep purple bruises. He pulls down the collar of his shirt and groans. They’re everywhere. Stretching from the tip of his sternum all the way up to under his left ear. There’s no hiding these at work today. Lauri is going to kill him.

____

Tom laughs at Will’s obvious discomfort. “God, they were thorough.” He chuckles to himself as he wanders into Will’s kitchen, “Now where do you keep your bloody coffee?”

____

Will falls back onto the couch. Tom doesn’t remember, he realizes. He isn’t sure if he's relieved or devastated. The things they had said, the things they had _done _, all seemed so real. Will refused to believe it was simply the alcohol talking. But if Tom was able to wake up without a single one of those emotions tugging on the back of his mind? Will sighed heavily, resigning himself to get ready for work. Maybe he was wrong.__

______ _ _

______ _ _

Blog Post 390 July 20, 2019

______ _ _

_I have woken up from dreams you don’t remember.  
A collective unconscious that once drove us both;  
To passion  
To madness  
To the brink of insanity.  
Let me see your eyes again in the rose colored light.  
And this time, my love,  
I’d ask you to wake up beside me._

______ _ _

__-L.C. Schofield_ _

______ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been spending way too much time with the dark 2nd Devons, they have corrupted me. 
> 
> I can't believe this fic is over halfway done! It's the longest, most plot-driven one I've ever written (I usually stick to oneshot stuff) and I'm so glad you guys are liking it so far!


	6. Of Course He Would

The morning after Tom's birthday. 

Tom woke up to the worst hangover of his life. He hated the sun streaming in through the window. Hated it. 

Where even was he? Will’s apartment? Will’s bed? Why was he in Will’s bed? 

Memories of the previous night felt flimsy. He remembered snippets of events. Like a montage of the night instead of the usual one shot film. 

A flash of Leslie dancing on the table. A flash of his brother dragging someone out the door. A flash of Will swaying softly in the dying red light. 

Tom padded out of the bedroom. Every footstep sent an angry spike of pain through his skull. 

He winced at the bright sunlight streaming into Will’s living room. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a long leg thrown over the side of the couch. Will.

Tom watches him sleep for a moment, the soft rise and fall of his chest a stark comparison to his usual tense figure. 

You’re being a creep, his brain supplied. You can’t just stand here watching your best friend sleep.

“Will?”

Will jolts up, groaning as his eyes adjust to the light. His hair is mussed beyond help, and the bags under his eyes are more pronounced than usual. But it’s the flowering bruises that decorate Will’s neck that sends a shockwave through his heart. 

Tom didn’t know there was someone else at the party who was interested in Will.

He didn’t know there was someone Will was interested in.  
They must have been very interested, if the dark marks trailing below Will’s collar meant anything. Tom swallowed down the strange feeling rising in his throat. Jealousy? No, couldn’t be. Discomfort? That must be it. 

“Shit, mate!” Tom rubbed his chest in a vain attempt to dislodge the unpleasant feeling settling there. “Someone really did a number on you!”

Will stumbles up to look at himself, pulling at his shirt to show more bruises leading along his collarbone, down and down.

Tom doesn’t want to know how far they go. “God, they were thorough.” He laughs uncomfortably, awkwardly wandering into the kitchen, “Now where do you keep your bloody coffee?” 

Tom hears Will fall back onto the couch and glances around the wall to look at him. Will looks like the picture of angst, face smushed into the couch cushions, mouth drawn up into a pout. 

Now, Tom may have mixed feelings when it came to Will’s romantic life, but he was still a good friend, damn it! And I’d rather be a good friend, he reminded himself, than anything else. 

“Is all this,” He waved a spoon at Will’s oozing sadness, “because of all that?” He waved the spoon at his own neck.

Will groaned, turning onto his back, “No. Wasn’t a big deal. Just shouldn’t have done it.”

“Oh.” Tom stops, “So you remember who it was?”

“Yeah.” 

Tom shifted impatiently, “Will you tell me?” 

Will ducks into the bathroom, “No.”

Tom hears the shower start and decides to take that as his cue to leave. As he heads out he spots a sticky note on the back of Will’s door. 

Left with the car to take Ellis home, you seemed busy. See you later  
-Joe

Tom stuffed the note into his pocket, grumbling angrily as he stalked back to his apartment.  
By the time he arrived, he was a wonderful mixture of hungover, pissed off, and confused. He chucked his keys onto his dresser as he stomped into his room. Tom yanked off his shirt, ready to take a long shower and sleep away the rest of the day, until he turned around to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. 

Flowering on his sternum, just above his heart, was a deep purple bruise.

And Tom remembered everything.

“Hi, Will!” Tom bubbled as he bounced into the cafe. The butterflies in his chest had escalated into pure adrenaline. 

Will doesn’t glance up from where he’s pouring coffee. 

Tom swallows his excitement, nervous settling into his usual seat, a spot on the corner of the bar style counter where he could talk to Will between customers. He perks up as Will snaps the register drawer shut with his hips. But Will doesn’t walk over to talk to him as he usually does, instead inviting the next person in line forward to order. 

“Hey, um, Will?” Tom tries again as the second customer leaves. He sees Will bite his cheek, the man looks like he’s fighting with himself before he turns to Tom. Irritation is gathered between his eyebrows and a tired sigh waits behind his slightly curled lip. 

Tom feels his confidence falter, “You alright?”

Something flashes across Will’s face as he opens his mouth to speak. 

The sharp clang of the bell above the door cuts across his first word, and Will grits his jaw in annoyance.

“William!” Leslie sways across the floor, “You’re a big, strong boy, aren’t you?” He takes up his usual position, draping himself over the counter so he can grin cheekily up at Will.

Will raises an eyebrow, “What did you do this time?”

Leslie feigns hurt, “Not me! At least not entirely this time. It’s Gracie, she broke down on the corner, won’t move an inch. Joe says he can fix it, but I gotta push her into the parking lane first and I can’t push a car and steer it at the same time so…” Leslie cocks his head at Will, shooting him double finger guns, “You wanna help me out mate?”

Will sighs tiredly as he unties his apron. 

“Haha, yes!” Ellis spins on his heel, bounding out of the cafe, “You’re the man, Will!”

Will mumbles something under his breath, tossing the apron beneath the counter. “Oi.” He points at Tom, “Don’t go anywhere.”

“I… I didn’t plan to…” Tom trails off awkwardly as Will trudges out the door. God damn it. He had imagined this going far smoother. He let his eyes wander around the cafe, the sun far more bearable now that the pain meds he’s taken were kicking in. His eyes land on a battered composition notebook, like the ones he used to keep in school when he was younger, left perfectly in a beam of sun. The light fell perfectly, casting shadows between the worn pages. Tom knew he shouldn’t. It wasn’t his. 

Tom sneakily reached out a hand to pull the notebook in front of him. He thumbs through it lazily, the pages are covered with tidy, cramped handwriting. Until a name jumps out at him.

 _Juliet._ Followed by a note, _too feminine? Heat? Warmth._

He flips though a few pages more.

_Cherries. Kisses? The petals of cherries upon your face, I wish their kisses were my own._

The last line is crossed out, and below it, a scrawl of stanzas. Stanzas that Tom knows, knows because he’s read them before. 

_To be the petals of cherries,  
Laying themselves upon your skin  
With the gentle touch of a lover,  
Brushing your face  
And kissing your hair._

And this time a signature, beneath it all,

_L.C. Schofield_

Tom feels his heart leap into his throat. This is his notebook. This is HIS notebook. The man he’s been pining after for ages. Surely he’ll be back to get it, any minute now. Tom’s hands start flipping through the book before his mind has time to interject.  
Lines of poetry flash past his eyes,

_Ophelia_

_Seashore_

_Rose colored light_

Until his eyes settle on unfamiliar lines.

_Persephone? Something about the dark? Something about bitterness.  
Decorating my skin with purple flowers  
My neck?  
Leaving my heart more barren than before._

Tom jumps as the cafe door opens, slamming the notebook shut and whipping around. 

A young woman breezes past into the cafe and Tom sags down in relief. His gaze wanders back to the cover of the notebook. A line of the same tidy handwriting graced the front cover. The pen long since faded, but the indent still visible in the thin cardboard. 

Schofield.

Will Schofield. 

Tom feels his heart sink.

If found, please return to Will Schofield.

Oh. 

So that’s why Will was ignoring him. That’s why Will wouldn’t admit to what happened last night.

Tom feels embarrassment burn hotly at the sides of his face. Why did he ever think that what happened last night meant anything at all. Will must see him as a desperate fan. An easy lay if he ever wanted one. Someone to keep around to make out with in the dark but not important enough to be in a real relationship with. 

Tom begins to feel nauseous as he remembers every time he swooned over the poet in front of Will. He remembers every comment Will had made in return. The way the boy had joked that the poet wouldn’t ever like him back, that he was always something, too short, too silly, too stupid. Reflecting now, Tom sees the discomfort and rejection hidden beneath each of Will’s jokes.

And this morning. The way Will had ushered him out of his apartment. The fact that Will openly admitted he had done something he shouldn’t have.

Tom feels hot tears blur his vision.

Will regrets it.

He doesn’t like Tom that way, and he never will. 

The first tear rolls down Tom’s face and he swipes at it as a new emotion rises in his chest; anger.

Angry that Will let him act like a fool. That Will let him embarrass himself for _months_.  
It was all just a joke to him.  
A game.

Will never cared.

Tom feels his heart break at the realization. Sadness and anger and embarrassment burn at his eyes as he stands abruptly, chair clattering to the ground. Tom can’t be bothered to care as the eyes of customers turn to watch him storm out.

He turned the corner only to slam directly into the chest of the person he least wanted to see.

“Tom?” Will’s voice is gentler than it had been this morning. “What’s going on?”

Tom pushed him away angrily, refusing to look the taller man in the eye. “Just leave me alone.” Tom hates that his voice breaks on the last word. Hates that Will gets to see all his weaknesses.

He’s never missed home more.

He came here thinking he could handle it. The city. All the people. 

He was just a soft little cherry tree map boy. Of course he would be taken advantage of. Tom wiped his face angrily, kicking the door of his apartment as the key gets stuck. Stumbling through the tight hall to his bedroom.

Of course he would mess up like this and embarrass himself.

Tom collapsed onto his bed. Letting the first sob of many finally shake out of his chest.

Of course he would fall in love with the first boy he met. 

Of course he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra hello if you're from the 2nd Devons! Love you guys!!! 
> 
> I kinda want to give this fic a real title, now that there are other coffee shop fics popping up. Is it too late? I'm worried no one would be able to find it again if I renamed it.
> 
> I dunno. If anyone is is good at titling things, let me know, I obviously suck at it :)


	7. That's Just Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter of Tom and Will's story.

Will’s head jumps to attention as the bell above the cafe door jangles. A young woman strolls in and Will groans audibly, dropping his head to his chest. It’s not Tom. The boy hadn’t been around in weeks.

Every chime of the stupid bell takes Will back to the freezing night they had met, pointing out every other route he could have taken. Introducing himself as Schofield, mentioning he was a poet as he walked Tom home, claiming his lines when Tom had quoted them so cheerily. But every path leads him to this same end, Tom walking out of his life, faster than Will could let him in it. 

The bell chimes again and Will spares it a bitter glance. Jolting up as he catches a glimpse of hair, like Tom’s, skin, like Tom’s, but a face, just slightly different, older. Tom’s brother, his mind supplies, Joe. 

Will has to turn away as the guilt starts clawing at his throat again. It had rarely stopped gnawing at him since he walked back into the cafe that day, only to see his notebook lying in front of Tom’s upturned chair. 

“Hey, listen man.” 

Will hesitates to turn around, “Leslie’s not here to jerk around with you right now, you’ll have to come back later.”

“I’m not here for Leslie.” Joe replies angrily. “I’m here for you.”

Will swallows nervously as Joe leans a hand on the counter, glaring down at him. 

“Do you wanna tell me what the fuck you did to my baby brother?”

It’s not a question. The casualty of it is laced with bitterness, reminding Will just how badly he messed up.

“It was a misunderstanding.” Will stammers, wringing his hands anxiously, “Tom thinks I’ve been letting him embarrass himself when really I was the one who was afraid of being humiliated.”

Joe raised a skeptical eyebrow, “Really? So this is Tom’s fault now?” The man sounds as though he’s mere seconds away from kicking Will’s ass into next week.

“Tom just had so many great expectations for me, for who he thought I was.” Will apologizes quickly, “and… I couldn’t live up to any of them.” Will lets his shoulders slump in defeat, what does it matter if another Blake brother sees him for who he really is.

“Yeah well, you live up to them now.” Joe spits, running a hand angrily through his hair before slamming it on the counter. “Because my baby brother has been heartbroken, since that day. And now his semester is ending and he’s going home because he thinks he’s not cut out for city life.” 

Will’s eyes shot up in alarm. That can’t be right. Tom can’t leave.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Joe sneers at him, “Now you go fix this.”

Will nodded his head, mind racing. Tom can’t leave like this. To somewhere far away and permanent, taking his sunshine smile and ringing laugh with him.

He can’t. 

Lauri’s curses fall on deaf ears as he sprints out of the cafe, dashing down the four blocks he had often walked with Tom. A taxi horn screams angrily as he weaves through traffic, pushing past pedestrians to stumble through the iron gates of their favorite park.

Tom liked to sit under the trees, Will remembers, winding off the path and towards a cluster of cherry trees. He said it reminded him of home.

He pushes through the dark branches, drooping under the weight of the recent rain. The water droplets refracted the sunlight, shining pink lights against the dark, damp wood.

The grove opens up and Will stops in his tracks. Tom is sitting with his back to him, leaning against his favorite cherry tree. He’s wearing the brown corduroy jacket that Will always mocked him for wearing, saying he looked straight out of the 80’s. The sunlight kisses his dark hair, making him glow in the post-rain sun.

“Tom?” Will calls carefully, he sees the other man stiffen.

“What do you want?” Tom’s voice is level. It’s somehow so much worse. Will wishes he would yell, cry, something; anything would be better than the last three weeks of bitter silence.

Will crept around the tree, cautiously settling besides Tom. The boy doesn’t look at him.

“I’m so sorry.”

Tom inhales sharply.

“I wanted to tell you, about being Schofield, I really did.” Will sighs heavily, “But you loved this guy so much, you talked about him like he put the stars in the sky. I didn’t want to break the illusion. I didn’t want to disappoint you with who he really was, and then so much time passed…” Will waved a hand uselessly as he ran out of things to say, “There was just never a good time to tell you. I’m sorry.”

Tom grits his jaw, eyes focused on the horizon. “I’m still pissed.” Will watches him turn words over in his mouth, careful about the ones he voices, “There was no need to mock me for all my affection. If you didn’t feel that way towards me you should have told me upfront, instead of hiding behind your little persona.”

Will turns sharply at this, “What do you mean?”

Tom laughs bitterly, “You think I don’t remember all those little jokes? How the incredible L.C. Schofield would never love someone like me? Because I remember, Will. I remember.” 

“Thomas Blake.” 

Tom turns his head at the sincerity in Will’s voice.

“I have been enamored with you since the day we met.”

Tom’s eyes widened, searching Wills’ face for any sign of deception.

“I didn’t want you to think I only saw you as a fan. I wanted you to know me for who I am. I wanted you to fall in love with that.” He pauses, “But you never did.” Tom’s gaze follows as Will turns to look out over the park. “And after the party, when you didn’t remember anything, I just...It felt like confirmation that you would never love me back.”

Tom sits quietly in the confession, lips parted gently in shock, “You love me?”

“Tom,” Will laughs, “I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you. I’m sorry if that’s too much, but I can’t help it.” 

“No,” Will glances up, Tom is smiling now. Will feels his heart skip as Tom slides his hand into his, “That’s just enough.”

And then Tom is kissing him.

It’s so much better than anything at the party. It’s sweet and soft and sober and real. Will feels their shared breath linger between them as they part, drunk on the high of requited love. Tom kisses him again, a gentle press of his lips before he’s pulling back, gazing up at Will like he hung the stars in the sky.

“I have to ask though, did you write any poems about me?”

Blog post 394 August 14, 2019

_The lovers on tarot cards know nothing.  
They live in reshuffled decks,   
laying out in different patterns the same lines of love._

_They've never seen the ocean.  
Blue like your eyes,  
glimmering tidepools and unspeakable depths.   
Storms crashing against the shore and the sun on smooth waters_

_Eons of weather,  
captured within your irises._

_Did you write any poems about me?_

_My love,  
they’re all about you._

-William “L.C.” Schofield


	8. That's All I Need AKA The Bonus Chapter

“Now Wilco’s a bloody idiot, so as soon as he lights the Roman Candle, it shoots right back at him! Blew his own ear clean off!” Tom laughs along with his small audience, beer sloshing out of his cup onto the ground as he waves his hands dramatically. “Oh shit,” Tom carefully adjusts his cup. He blushes, looking up at Will from where he’s nestled under the other man’s arm. “Sorry ‘bout that, love.”

Will signs in mock exasperation, “You’re lucky I love you.” He carefully unhooks himself from Tom, setting his glass down on the cafe counter. He weaves through the crowd of their friends, packed into the cafe to celebrate his birthday. It was a roaring party, just like the one they’d imagined that drunken summer night. 

He ducked into the back looking for paper towels; nothing. Will strode back out into the dining area, Grumbling softly at Leslie’s inability to replace the things he used. “Lauri!” he called, eyes catching the brunette popping up out of the crowd.

“Yeah?” 

Will tugged open the supply closet door, “Tell Ellis he’s-”

“SHIT!”

Will tumbled backwards as Ellis spilled out of the supply closet, followed shortly by-

“JOE?” Tom exclaimed, sliding his cup to the side to push through the crowd. “Jesus Christ mate!” Tom laughs as Joe and Ellis pick themselves up, blushes rising in both men’s faces. Joe collects Ellis’ jacket from the ground and the man hurries to put it on, pulling the collar up over his neck.

Ellis’ best efforts aren’t quick enough to avoid Tom’s attention and he laughs aloud, noticing the magenta beginnings of a bruise just below Ellis’ pulse point.

“No,” Tom grins in realization, turning to Joe,“You sneaky bastard! Mum’s gonna love this one!”

Joe looks as though he wishes the floor would swallow him whole. He turns to Will for support, the man only offering him a shrugging grin. 

“I can’t believe this!” Tom dances happily at his brother’s discomfort, “How long have you two been together?”

\---------------------  
8 months ago  
\---------------------

Ellis Leslie watches at Will disappeared through the swinging doors, leaving him at the mercy of Joseph fucking Blake. He groans, slouching a bit further onto the counter to bury his head in his arms. 

“So,” Joe takes a sip of his coffee, Ellis would like to slap it out of his hand. “What happened to that French guy?”

“Left me.” Ellis responds curtly, “For some other guy. Some German EDM guy.”

Joe slurps his coffee, “Sounds like a prick.”

“Oh?” Ellis sits up slightly, “Well, thanks.”

“Yeah, I feel you,” Joe continues, “When my last boyfriend dumped me, I was a mess. Ask Tom.”

“Wouldn’t leave the orchard for days,” Tom cuts in, “I had to coax him out with pies.”

Leslie nods slowly, still hung up on the first part of this anecdote. Joe Blake, with a boyfriend. “I didn’t realize you were-”

“Bi?” Joe shrugs, “ No one ever does. I’ve been told I don’t look like it. Don’t fit their pretty stereotypes.”

“Fuck sterotypes.” Ellis countered half mindedly, “I think you’re right pretty.”

“Thanks?” Joe laughed, “Not what I meant, but thank you.”  
“Hey Joe,” Tom butted in, drawing away Joe’s attention, “You heard anything from Mum lately?”

Ellis sits, half listening to Blake’s chat. The street outside the cafe is spotted with twilight shadows by the time the brother’s finally part. Joe collects up his things, dropping a few pounds on the counter before turning to leave. The bell chimes as he pauses, halfway out the door.

“And hey, Ellis?” Leslie could swear he saw a hint of a blush creeping up Joe’s face, “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

\-----------------------

Leslies shudders as he glances down at the rag in his hand, once white, it’s now stained pink with Will’s blood. 

He hears the bell chime above the door and sighs heavily, “We’re closed right now, there's been an emergency.”

“I know.” 

Ellis pauses from where he's scrubbing away Will’s blood.

“I was coming to check on you.” Joe shifts nervously. 

Ellis stands slowly, passing the rag anxiously between his hands, “I wasn’t attacked like Will, I’m alright.”

“You sure? You were still back there, with that man.” Joe’s voice is gentle and low and it’s doing something to Ellis’ usually strong demeanor.

“I’m sure,” Ellis nods, “He already had Will’s brain lined up at the end of that gun, he didn’t need mine.” Ellis laughs shakily, turning to go back to his work. 

“Hey,” Joe crosses the cafe to grab his arm, Ellis looks up at him. Something shines behind Joe’s eyes, something Ellis hasn’t seen before.

“Come here.” Joe tugs gently, pulling Ellis into a hug.

Ellis slowly relaxes into his chest, tension leaving his shoulders. “I’ve never been scared like that.” He whispers, “I thought he was gonna kill us all.”

“Hey, hey,” Joe soothes as he feels Ellis start to shake against him. “You’re okay now, you’re safe.”

Ellis sniffles, resting his face against Joe’s shoulder.

“Do you…” Joe pauses to gather his confidence, “Would you want to crash at my place tonight?”

Ellis glanced up in confusion, “Wha-”

“You seem shaken, and I don’t want you to be alone right now,” Joe pulls back, chuckling softly, “You’re freaked out, man.”

“I mean,” Ellis steps back, gaze jumping around the cafe before landing back on Joe’s soft blue eyes. “Okay.”

Joe watches Ellis slowly step into his flat, the man’s dark shapes seem to fill well in his minimalistic, white apartment.

He seems to fit even better between his white sheets. Dark hair fanned out against the pillow as he rolled over to face Joe.

“Thank you.” There’s something soft in Ellis’ voice, something he hasn’t heard before.

Joe kisses him before he has time to think.

Ellis kisses back.

Ellis Leslie sleeps over that night.

But they don't get much sleep.

\------------------------

Ellis watches Tom sitting in Will’s lap from across the room. “Should we tell them?”

“Nah.” Joe tilts his head to take a hit from the blunt in Ellis’ hand, his arms occupied with the man in his own lap. Ellis’ long legs are thrown across his thighs, the arm holding the blunt thrown over his shoulders, the other holding a cup of beer.

Together they watch Tom’s face dip a little too close to Will’s.

“Do you think they’re gonna finally get their shit together?” Ellis notes. 

“Nah.”

Ellis smiles, resting his face against Joe’s neck. “You wanna get out of here?”

Joe hums, pretending to think it over until Ellis is giggling into his neck. “Sure.”

\---------------------

“I’m glad they finally figured it out.” Ellis looks out over the crowd to watch Tom and Will. The two men are casually leaning against each other, entertaining a small crowd of Will’s friends. 

Joe downs his glass, setting it aside to wrap both his arms around Ellis, resting his chin on Ellis’ shoulder. Together they look out over the chaos of Will’s birthday party. “I still can’t believe it took them this long.”

“It’s ‘cause they’re idiots.” Ellis replies.

Joe nodded.

Ellis turned slightly, leaning into his boyfriend to press sneaky kisses up his neck.

Joe glances down, “You ready to go home, then?”

Ellis shrugs.

“‘Cause you seem ready.”

Ellis smiled up at him seductively, “Why go home when we have a supply closet right here?”

“Ellis Andrew Leslie!” Joe feigned shock, “I didn’t take you to be that sort.”

The shorter man rolled his eyes, already tugging Joe towards the closet, “Oh stop it. We both know you love it.”

“Alright.” Joe shrugs, letting Ellis pull him into the cramped little space. “You got me.”

Ellis grins, wrapping his arms around Joe’s neck until their bodies are flush against one another. “That’s all I need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the final ending folks! This was the first multi-chapter fic I ever started, and I can't believe it's finally finished!
> 
> Thank you so much to the 2nd Devons! This fic was born during one of our many late-night brainstorming sessions when someone suggested an Author!Will AU, and everything else grew from there.   
> I love y'all so much! You guys encouraged me to start writing again and to finally start publishing it. I've met so many new friends who have helped me in so many ways! Love you guys!! <3<3<3


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